


when love is blind

by clayisforgirls



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post Match Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:18:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5892550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clayisforgirls/pseuds/clayisforgirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've sniped at each other longer than they've been sleeping with each other; Novak says that agreeing over everything would be boring, Andy claims that they exchanged insults because they couldn't say what they really wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Set after the Nadal-Djokovic match at the World Tour Finals in 2010, where Novak was having trouble with his contact lenses. Originally posted in November 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when love is blind

Half-asleep on Novak's bed seemed like a good idea an hour ago; it's when he hears the footsteps outside Novak's door that he starts to have doubts.

After a loss, Novak's usually full of loud rage; there are slammed doors, raised voices and heavy footsteps. Andy's seen enough of Novak after a loss to know that the pattern doesn't really change; Novak is the only person he knows who plays just to win. Tonight it's different though; the hotel room door just clicks shut behind Novak, his bags dropped into a messy pile by the wardrobes, and there's no sign of anger on his face, just weariness. He's wearing his glasses, and attempts to rub his eyes with the back of his hand while still wearing them.

Andy can't help but try and stifle a laugh at that, and it's then that Novak notices him for the first time. Usually after a loss Andy wouldn't be caught dead in Novak's hotel room; he's ended up with bruises on his wrists more than once from Novak pressing him into the mattress and he's not a kid anymore. Novak is more than capable of sorting his own problems over losing without taking them out on the nearest person, which too often is him.

Silence sits between them as Novak just looks at him, a half smile making him look impossibly young, something which is helped by his hair sticking up in twenty directions at once. Andy suspects his own hair looks much the same, though his is from napping on Novak's stupidly comfortable bed.

A raised eyebrow from Novak as he shrugs his jacket off asks the question that words don't.

"Just wanted to see if you were okay."

"My eye is fine," Novak replies curtly, and even if the outward Novak signs after a loss are different this is something he knows too well. It's something he can deal with, because there's a bristly part of them all that surfaces after they lose something they know they shouldn't have.

"Good," he says, and takes a breath before he starts provoking Novak; it's not sensible but it's tough to break a habit. They've sniped at each other longer than they've been sleeping with each other; Novak says that agreeing over everything would be boring, Andy claims that they exchanged insults because they couldn't say what they really wanted. Though now that they can, it hasn't changed a thing. "Still want to kick your ass in the final."

No real response other than a disbelieving snort from Novak; Andy's relieved he's okay in spirit if not in vision. Which he should really check, after all, it's the main reason he's here.

"How many fingers?" he asks, sticking his middle finger up and trying – and failing – to hide an accompanying grin. Novak's eyesight has clearly improved in the last hour; he sticks his tongue out in retaliation and his own middle finger up in response.

"Don't know why I put up with you," Novak mutters, pulling his jumper over his head and attempting to kick off his shoes at the same time. It doesn't quite work, but Andy's not quite mean enough to mock Novak tonight. At least not over not being able to undress himself.

"Well they say love is blind," he says with a grin; Novak's returning glare is enough to make it into a full-blown smile, "and right now you're just a bit more blind than normal."

Face full of Novak's jumper as the Serb flops onto the bed; it was expected but Andy's still too half-asleep to move it. It doesn't seem to matter, seconds later Novak's pushing it away. Bright green eyes meet his own for a second before Novak kisses him. Like everything else about Novak this evening it's soft and slow; his automatic reaction is to cup Novak's jaw and it's what he does, fingers grazing over the stubble long after Novak's lips have left his own.

"Thank you," he says, and Andy doesn't need to know what for. He presses a kiss back to Novak's nose, then the eyelashes resting against his cheek, wrapping an arm around him. Novak complies without protest, his face buried in Andy's neck, and he sleeps with his breath ghosting over his skin.


End file.
